


...When You're Older

by Medie



Category: Doctor Who, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-09
Updated: 2010-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 03:39:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What a picture they must have made; the man with the funny scarf and the little boy with the funny hat</p>
            </blockquote>





	...When You're Older

**Author's Note:**

> This is a _very_ late Sweet Charity story for [](http://kerravonsen.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**kerravonsen**](http://kerravonsen.dreamwidth.org/) to whom I owe the greatest of apologies. So many things got in the way of finishing this story (serious rl issues, serious writer's block issues, such and sundry) that I despaired, at times, I would ever actually finish it. It is, however, now finished and beta'd (thank you [](http://azarsuerte.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**azarsuerte**](http://azarsuerte.dreamwidth.org/)

What a picture they must have made; the man with the funny scarf and the little boy with the funny hat, sitting on the front steps of a museum, eating candy and not looking at the people rushing by. Some of the policemen stopped to look at them, but Danny didn't say anything. The policemen looked so sad, mumbling to themselves about 'that poor kid.' and 'you see the bodies? Shit, man, there's nothing left.'

Danny scowled, hunching into his coat and staring at his shoes. They were nice sneakers. Mom had bought them the day after they came back to the US. They were red and he'd tied the laces all on his own.

The hat fell forward, covering his eyes, and Danny shoved it up. The funny man laughed, setting it back on his head. "You'll grow into it soon enough."

"I'm not gonna have it that long," said Danny, looking from beneath the hat's brim. The funny man seemed to think it was awful funny as he laughed all the harder. Mom would have laughed too, reasoned Danny. Mom liked funny pictures and funny men. Mom liked jelly babies too.

Mom didn't like anything anymore. Danny's mom was dead. Danny's dad died with her.

Danny heard the thump echo in his ears.l He winced down into his coat. They were gonna bring 'em out soon, the police were talking about distracting him. Someone said 'social worker' and Danny winced again. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Mom and Dad hadn't been under the stone. They might've just gotten lost in all the confusion.

He looked back. There was a man walking out, but it wasn't his Dad. This man was pushing a cart. No, not a cart, a bed, and there was a body on it. Danny could see Dad's shoes. He gulped, trying to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat. _Dad_. That was his --

"Here now, young man, none of that," said the funny man, a hand on his shoulder turning him around. With a brilliant smile, the funny man tweaked the hat on Danny's head. "You have plenty of wonderful memories of your Mum and Dad. No need to be colouring them with that."

"I saw them die," said Danny, solemn as a judge.

"Yes, I suppose you did," said the funny man, just as solemn. The Doctor, he'd said that his name was. It was a peculiar name, thought Danny. "That will fade with time." He looked at Danny with distant eyes. The look reminded him of his Dad. When he got that exact same look in his eye. When he got that one, he'd forget to eat and have to make a sandwich when everyone else was in bed. "You've quite a lot of ahead of you, Daniel Jackson. Some wonderful adventures I can't begin to tell you, that your parents would be very proud of. So many."

"I'm not gonna have any adventures," said Danny, frowning. "I'm gonna go with a social worker and they're gonna put me in foster care and I'm gonna stay there." At least until Nick came, but Danny wasn't so sure that he would. He wasn't even sure anyone would be able to find him. "You can't have adventures in foster care. It's against the rules."

The funny – the Doctor – laughed and shook his head. "And who said you have to follow the rules? Really, Daniel, the rules have their place at times, but not always. Not for those of us who have answers which require chasing."

"That doesn't make any sense," said Danny. "You follow the rules or bad things happen." Except that wasn't true. Mom and Dad had followed the rules, and something bad still happened.

The Doctor nodded, as if he heard Danny think that. "But sometimes, my boy, the rules are _wrong_." He held out the bag of jelly babies. "There are certain discoveries which can only be made by breaking the rules." He smiled, standing up. "You'll understand what I mean, just as soon as you see the Stargate."

"The what?" asked Danny.

"The Stargate," said the Doctor, grinning merrily. "That and the other bric-a-brac the Ancients left lying about the place. You can't even begin to _imagine_ the toys that lot left scattered in their wake." The Doctor paused, clearly giving great thought to something. Whatever it was must have pleased him because his grin widened. "Well, you won't have to imagine, will you? You'll find it all out for yourself in good time. Enjoy the hat!" A moment later, he disappeared into the crowd. Danny would have followed, wondering where he was headed, but a hand landed on his shoulder.

When he looked up, he found the stern face of the social worker looking back. "Time to go, young man."

Danny went, still looking for The Doctor from beneath the brim of his funny hat.

-

As it is wont to do, time passed. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years, and years into decades. Danny grew into Daniel, passing through foster homes, leaving some within days and spending years in others. The longest time, he spent with friends of his parents, who died when their plane crashed.

On his own, Daniel went to university and not once, in all that time, did he think of the odd man who'd called himself the Doctor.

Not even when he looked at the pyramids and wondered.

-

Squinting, Daniel leaned forward. "Well, that's new." He brushed at the inscription, taking a second look. Behind him, Jack shifted restlessly, his boredom radiating throughout the room. "You can sit down, you know. I said this would take a while."

"Oh, no, that's all right," said Jack, as sunny as ever. "I'm fine. The walls in here are just _fascinating_, really. I think I just found a _sweet_ recipe for barbecue chicken." He hesitated, then added, "Or not. I'm pretty sure that's not a chicken."

"It's not," said Daniel, looking back. "That's a ritual offering to the gods."

"Well, close," said Jack. He took off his cap, scratching the back at his head. "Could _work_ for chicken."

Rolling his eyes, Daniel turned around again. "Or it could give you food poisoning, put you in the infirmary for a week, and give Janet plenty of excuses to make your life hell." Which would be completely justified. Being trapped with Jack–I-Never-Met-An-Inanimate-Object-I-Couldn't-Destroy-O'Neill for a week was pretty much his idea of hell.

"That's just cruel, Daniel," said Jack.

"But true." Daniel sat back on his haunches, frowning at the inscription. He heard Jack's boots scrape stone as he crossed the temple to stand behind him. "Do you have to do that?"

"Yup," said Jack. "You're doing the frowny face thing. Usually means something's about to blow up." He nudged Daniel in the shoulder, amused. "You're our canary. If you make the frowny face, you're onto something, and then all hell breaks loose. Explosions, unpleasantries, and the occasional near death experience."

Before Daniel could argue, he added, "So, what's new?"

"New?" echoed Daniel.

"Yes, new," said Jack. "You said 'that's new' which, ergo, implies that something is most certainly not of the old."

Making a face, Daniel gestured at the wall and a section of the glyphs on it. "This whole building seems to be dedicated to various races that the previous inhabitants had contact with. Some of them we know -- the Asgard and the Ancients -- for example, but there's at least one that stands out. Gallifrey."

"Gallifrey," said Jack. "So we've never heard of them before?"

Daniel shook his head. "Never." He waved a hand at the glyphs. "I have a feeling that we weren't supposed to now, either. It looks like someone _tried_ to destroy this."

"Curiouser and curiouser." Jack squinted at the faded and damaged glyphs. "So, planning to chalk it up as one of the great universal whodunits, huh?"

"Actually, no," said Daniel. He pushed his glasses into place and added, "The glyphs mention something worth checking out." He pushed to his feet and led Jack to another grouping of glyphs. "This section refers to the Gallifreyan sciences."

"Our something worth checking out, I presume?" asked Jack. "Write up a report for Carter's geeks."

Daniel grinned faintly. Jack was impatient, eager to be on his way back to the gate and the next mission. "Well, yes," he said, "that was part of the plan, but I thought you might want to hear this part."

"And that part would be -- "

"Where the Gallifreyans mastered time."

Jack's eyebrows froze, but only by the fraction. "Mastery, you say." He tilted his head. "Mastered enough to use on a regular basis?"

Daniel nodded. "Something not even the Ancients have done."

"Oh sure," said Jack. "Rub it in."

-

"Time travel." General Hammond leaned back in his chair. "And yet we've never heard of them?"

"Well, sir," said Jack, tracing nonsensical patterns on a file with his pencil, "from what Daniel's been able to find out, these guys aren't likely to show up at the Sunday Social."

Taking the opportunity to jump in, Daniel added. "The glyphs seem to imply that the secret of time travel was guarded by an elite oligarchy of Gallifreyan society. They didn't seem all that interested with interactions among their own, much less the rest of the galaxy."

_'Rather disappointingly useless lot, hidden away in their shining citadel while their supposed lessers have all the fun.'_

The words, so dryly said, came unbidden into Daniel's thoughts. A memory, it seemed, although he couldn't imagine from where. Frowning, he scribbled the words into the margin of his notepad anyway. As he tuned back in to the conversation around him, Daniel resolved to track it down later. It might come in handy.

"We thought about asking my father, sir," put in Sam. "Selmak might remember something."

Jack harrumphed and the General shot him amused grin. "_Colonel_."

"You know I'm right, sir," Jack said, shrugging. "Even if the Tok'ra do know something, they'll probably keep it to themselves and swear that it's 'for our own good' again." He looked up. "But I'm not bitter, did that sound bitter?"

Daniel shrugged.

"Well, try anyway, Colonel," said the General. "If they do indeed know about these Gallifreyans, I'd like to know what it is."

"All right, sir," Jack grinned. "Can we bring the thumbscrews?"

Shaking his head, Hammond stood. "Let's try the diplomatic method instead. Dismissed."

"Oh sure," said Jack. "Let them have all the fun."

-

It would occur to Martha, at a much later date, that the Doctor didn't say a word. From that alone, she might have known that there was something afoot. Though she had not been travelling with the man long – just _one_ trip, mind you – she had learnt that much. In fact, it occupied a growing list of discoveries. Most were certain universalities of interstellar travel that did not surprise her; gravity, primarily bipedal species, developing on worlds with similar terrain to her own. The Doctor's unending ability to talk, however, topped the lot of them.

He simply did not stop. Ever. Forget his two hearts, she wanted a look at his _lungs_.

That said, the fact that the Doctor said nothing until he opened the doors and revealed the large stone circle should have told her something very important. Or, rather, it would have if she'd been listening.

"Well, there it is," said the Doctor. Spreading his arms wide, he grinned broadly at it. "Hello old friend!" He glanced over, adding, "Haven't travelled by Stargate in years, of course, never saw the need to what with the TARDIS and all, didn't really want to hurt her feelings either, but there is something about them." His hands migrated into his pockets and he rocked back on his heels, looking at the Stargate as one would regard the stars or the Mona Lisa.

Stepping out of the TARDIS, Martha joined him before the ramp. "It's beautiful."

"That it is," agreed the Doctor. "You should see the ones they've got in other galaxies. Right creative bunch, the Ancients, couldn't help tweaking the design here and there. Never were ones to let sleeping chevrons lie." He looked at her, suddenly somber. "Suspect that might be what did them in at the end. Couldn't leave well enough alone until well enough made them."

She hadn't the foggiest idea what he was talking about, but Martha had the sense she wasn't supposed to. "A common problem, I suppose."

"More than we'd like to admit," said the Doctor, turning back to the Stargate. "More than we'd like to admit."

The Doctor's 'old friend' was impressive. Martha had to give him that. The elegantly carved symbols didn't look familiar, but that did little to detract from their beauty. Of course, given that it sat in the middle of some kind of concrete tower, she didn't think they were in a museum. That meant it had a practical purpose.

Circling around it, she looked at the Doctor. "All right, yeah, it's quite something, give you that much, but -- "

He raised a brow. "What is it?"

Martha nodded.

Jumping onto the ramp, the Doctor grinned with typically manic enthusiasm. "_This_ is the Chaapa-ai, the gateway to the stars, a – with apologies to Zepplin – stairway to heaven. This, Martha, is the _Stargate_."

"Right, and that would be?" asked Martha, a grin on her face.

"Oh," coughed the Doctor, sheepish, "It is a device by which all manner of being may travel to other planets." He tipped forward, confiding with a conspiratorial stage whisper, "Through time if the situation calls for, though that's a bit rough, terribly unsophisticated, I mean, reall-- _hellllo_!"

Martha turned round to see the approaching soldiers, guns raised, advancing on them with wary steps. "Right," she said, putting up her hands. "I suppose this would be when we say we come in peace?"

-

"What the hell is that?"

Walking down the ramp to get closer to the large blue box, Daniel could almost share Jack's sentiment. It wasn't as if large blue police boxes were commonplace accessories in the Gate Room. They weren't commonplace _anywhere_, not anymore, and yet – "It's a public call box. They were used all over the place, but especially London, prior to the use of radios. They could be used as miniature police stations, even holding suspects inside temporarily, if the situation called for it."

Ambling past him, Jack circled the large blue box and then leaned around it to eye Daniel. "Well, thank you for the explanation, but the question was kinda meant to be rhetorical."

Daniel resisted the temptation to roll his eyes, refusing to give his friend the reaction he was fishing for. "I know." He walked around the box as well and picked up the receiver of the outside telephone. That there was no dial tone wasn't a surprise.

What was, however, was the fact that he recognized it. The realization stopped him dead in his tracks and he stared silently up at the box that now stood out so prominently in his memories.

"Daniel?" asked Sam, moving closer. "You okay?"

"It was in New York," said Daniel, resting a hand on the box's side. "The day that my parents died."

"Uh, Daniel? New York doesn't have police boxes," said Jack. "Right, T?"

Daniel looked at Teal'c. The Jaffa stood halfway up the ramp, watching them mill around the police box. He almost looked amused. At being addressed, Teal'c looked at Jack. "I am unfamiliar with this 'New York' of which you speak."

"Sure you are, buddy," said Jack. "And that Die Hard trilogy in your room? Just a paperweight, right?" He turned back to Daniel. "So – Police Box? New York City?"

"My parents dying?" finished Daniel, ignoring the way Jack and Sam winced. "I don't know, Jack. I just know it was there, outside the museum, in an alley. The Doctor got out of it."

"The who?" asked Jack.

"The Doctor," said Daniel, shrugging.

"Doctor who?" asked Sam. "Did he give a name?"

"Nope," Daniel shook his head. "When I asked, he said his name was the Doctor. We sat on the front steps and waited for the social worker. We ate jelly babies and he gave me his hat. Still have it, actually."

Jack looked at him. "Never did take that whole 'candy and hats from strangers' thing to heart, did you?"

"Nope," said Daniel. "Wouldn't be here if I did."

-

"Well," said the Doctor, "you must admit we've been in far worse spots than this." He settled back in his chair, sneaker clad feet resting on the table. "Positively palatial, really. Haven't even got round to the threatening and torture yet – you know, speaking of, nobody uses thumbscrews anymore, haven't you noticed? Shame, really, always good for a bit of fun, thumbscrews, more than you might think -- "

"Find that hard to believe," muttered Martha, keeping one wary eye on the door. "Trend being thumbscrews and all."

"Yes, well, you would. Modern day woman of science and all," said the Doctor, warming to his subject. "Really, all in the technique. Have a terrible technique, you get absolutely nowhere with it all. That's the problem with good interrogations in this century, there's just no appreciation for technique. It's all rush, rush, rush. Nobody takes the time for a good bit of foreplay."

Martha raised one eyebrow. "Doctor, are we still talking about torture or have we wandered just a touch?"

Bewildered, the Doctor looked at her. "What else would we be talking about?"

"I can't imagine," said Martha. Really, at times she found it absolutely mystifying that the man could be as old as he purported and still manage to be quite – Well, that he could be so very much _him_. She really didn't know what to do with him at times and the rest of the time, what she knew wouldn't really apply. "Shouldn't we be finding a way to escape?"

"From?" asked the Doctor.

Sitting down, Martha watched the way he grinned, his foot tapping time to a rhythm only he heard. "You meant to get captured, didn't you?"

"Honestly?"

She nodded. "For once."

He made a face. "I'll have you know, Martha Jones, that I am the very soul of honesty. Haven't had much need for deception, nasty business that it is, just lands you in more trouble than its worth and do you know how hard it is to convince the Fourth Queen of Choriada Five that, yes, you were technically lying, but it really was all for a good cause as your granddaughter really wanted to see the purple dragons of the lavender lagoon? And I just realized how utterly ridiculous that sounds." He sat up abruptly. "Purple dragons of the lavender lagoon. Purple dragons of the lavender lagoon – why did I not notice that before?"

"Granddaughter?" That was a new one. Really, figuring anything out about the man was murder. The only time she did seemed to be random moments just like this wherein he forgot and – Martha sighed. He wasn't about to explain it, would likely change the subject if she asked. For a man who talked almost constantly, he said next to nothing about himself.

"Really should show you sometime," said the Doctor, continuing as if she hadn't spoken. "Welll...I would, except -- "

"The Fourth Queen didn't believe you," said Martha. "She's still a bit -- "

The Doctor nodded. "Well, not _her_ so much as her daughter. They tend not to have long reigns on Choriada Five, what with the rampaging coups and all. Dragons raise quite a bit of tourist revenue. Tasty bit of business to a rising queen." He paused. "I did mention them being insectoid, right?"

Laughing, Martha shook her head. "Doctor, some days, I really don't know what to make of you."

He beamed at her. "Yes, I know, it's maddening, isn't it? Most days, don't know what to make of myself." His grin turned to a puzzled look. "I was talking about something, wasn't I?"

"Yes," said Martha. And for once she could actually remember what it was. There were days where he got going and, by the time he was done, she could hardly remember her own name, much less what she'd asked him. "You meant for us to get captured."

"Right, that." The Doctor shook his head. "Didn't mean for it in the least, though I suppose I should have seen it coming. The military can be so persnickety about its secrets. Specially when it's a _good_ secret and a suspicious military and you must admit, the Stargate is a very good secret and the Americans -- "

"_Doctor_."

Martha smothered her laugh when he sat up, sheepishness filling his smile. "Would you believe I used to be quite shy? My parents absolutely despaired of me ever speaking a word on my own. Rather unfortunate, really. They spent quite an extraordinary amount on therapy, of course, but as it turned out, it worked a little too well."

"Just," said Martha, not believing a word of it, "It's certainly helping you avoid the question in fine style."

"Not so much avoiding as taking the scenic route toward the answer," said the Doctor. "And no, I did not mean to be captured. I was hoping to see a friend, but I'm afraid we didn't quite time it right. Suspect we landed a touch too early for that. Quite all right, though. Just as soon as Daniel gets back, I'm sure they'll be ushering him in to see us. Either that or he'll insist on it. Bit pushy at times, Daniel. You wouldn't think he had it in him, except, well -- " the Doctor saddened. "Like his mother that way. Lovely woman."

"Did you know her too?" asked Martha, her voice soft.

The Doctor shook his head, somber. "No, but she was a lovely woman. Raised a very impressive son." He sat back again. "You'll see what I mean in short order." He waved a hand toward the door. "Expecting him any minute now." Putting up his feet on the table, he tucked his hands behind his head, a suggestion of mischief returning to his eyes. "You two'll get along swimmingly, I expect."

"Oh really?" Martha folded her arms. She wasn't quite sure that she wanted to know.

"Yes, most definitely. With the man's penchant for landing himself in mortal peril, Daniel and medical professionals are a perfect fit."

-

"_Daniel_! Hello!"

Whatever Daniel had been expecting to find on the other side of the door, the bright-eyed, near manic greeting was not it. The man to whom the greeting belonged was a stranger to Daniel. He'd never seen the man before in his life.

Not that the stranger seemed to know that as he bounded out of the seat, beaming with excitement.

"Blimey, it's good to see you!" His coat tails flapping as he came to a stop before them, the skinny man grinned. "Taller than I remembered." He paused, a thoughtful frown on his face. "You grew, obviously, but the question is did I shrink? I can't remember how tall I was then. Course, who does pay attention to those things? Not like when your Mum makes those marks on the wall – not that mine did, of course. Not a lot of wall-marking around the Citadel – Ah well, water under the bridge and all. Nice place you have here, though I must say, the gray's just a little -- "

"_Doctor_," said his companion, her voice soft.

"Right, yes," coughed the Doctor. "Sorry."

Daniel looked past him at the woman. She smiled, shrugging. He couldn't stop himself from nodding back. Been there. "It's all right," he said, turning back to the Doctor. "Not much of a fan of the gray myself and it's good to see you too, I suppose, under the circumstances."

"Right, that," said the Doctor. He tugged on his earlobe and grinned. "Forgot how touchy that lot can get about the Stargate. Truth be told, they're touchy about a lot of things really; guns, bombs, reality television. It's all quite a wonder they haven't blown themselves up by now. Would've thought The Simple Life getting cancelled would've been enough to do it." He paused, looking at Daniel with an expression that was almost sly. "Course, that would be where you come in, wouldn't it? Brilliant bit of work, that, by the way. You saving the world and all. Told you'd that you'd have quite a time of it down the road, didn't I?"

He kept going from there, of course, chatting on about any number of things. Some of it made sense, some of it didn't, and as he went on Daniel began to the suspect him of being a circular breather. He didn't seem to be slowing down for a breath at all. Daniel, however, stopped following as he puzzled over something he'd said. "You told me what?"

Stopping, the Doctor nodded. "Yes, I told you. All those years ago. You don't remember anything about that? Odd." He looked puzzled for a moment, as if trying to sort it out, and then nodded again. "Right. Of course, you wouldn't, what with the regeneration and all."

"The re-what-a-nation?"

Daniel looked back. "_Jack_."

Leaning against the wall, Jack smirked and echoed, "_Daniel_."

"You have one as well, I see," said the woman, nodding at Jack. She held out a hand. "Martha Jones."

"Daniel Jackson," said Daniel, "and unfortunately, I do. You just can't take them anywhere."

They shared a look of commiseration until Jack, ever the soul of discretion, cleared his throat loudly. "So, about that big blue box that just magically appeared in the Gate Room? I'm gonna guess it belongs to you two and, well, we'd kinda like to ask a few questions about that."

Daniel grimaced at Martha who hid a grin behind a polite cough. "Right," he said, "If you don't mind, Doctor, we really would. People in high places with questions and such."

The Doctor clapped his hands together, rubbing briskly. "Right! Well, yes, sorry about just turning up like that. I'd thought that we'd just tuck ourselves away in a corridor somewhere and be properly polite about it, but the TARDIS had other plans. She's quite fond of that, you know. Just up and does what she minds to whenever it happens to occur to her. Which isn't really out of character for any TARDIS. They know their own mind, and yours, better than any TARDIS has a right to. They're quite maddening about that. Not that you can blame her this time round, poor old girl, I think she's a bit homesick. It's been an eternity or two since she's been around any functioning Ancient technology and you know how that goes. Though, I suppose, you might not, with none of you being a TARDIS and all, but it has a bit of a soothing nuance about it. Tell me, Daniel, do you still have my hat?"

"Your -- " Daniel shook his head. "I beg your pardon, your _what_?"

He looked at the megawatt smile, trying to place why it seemed so familiar, and blinked. Of _course_. The pieces fell quickly into place, nearly dizzying in their rush to form a picture, and he stopped. "It couldn't -- " but it was. "_Doctor_?"

This time, there were no jelly babies, no social workers, and no body bags, but looking into his eyes, Daniel was sure. It was the Doctor.

"Hello, Daniel," said the Doctor, his smile softening. The action held shades of the man Daniel remembered, convincing him further. He didn't know how, but he knew that it was.

"Doctor."

They stood for a moment, staring at each other, as if waiting for a commercial break. With such a dramatic reveal, it was the perfect time for a quick cut away to a couple dancing bears, maybe someone hawking a hemorrhoid cream. Anything to give them a moment to adjust, a moment for Daniel's mind to run through the nigh exhaustible list of alien devices which might explain the Doctor's transformation.

Unfortunately, there was going to be no commercial break, no chance to get his feet underneath him. Daniel just had to get on with it. He sighed, glancing up at the ceiling, taking whatever chance to stall that he could. Getting around to this particular subject was going to be _interesting_ if nothing else.

"So, uh, you look -- " he shrugged. "Well, you've -- " Again he fumbled. With the Doctor watching him, a vaguely sympathetic expression on his face, he couldn't quite come up with anything. Shrugging, Daniel settled on, "Do something new with your hair?" and promptly winced.

That had sounded _way_ too much like Jack.

The Doctor, however, seemed utterly delighted and laughed. "In a manner of speaking, yes, that's precisely what happened." He started to continue, then stopped and rounded on Jack. "Tell me, Colonel O'Neill, do you happen to have any contacts within UNIT? Doubt you've ever heard of Torchwood – one hopes – but UNIT, well now, that's another bit of business entirely. There's a Colonel I'd like to contact, lovely girl, grandfather's an old friend and -- " he paused. "You're going to say no."

"UNIT?" Jack repeated blandly, "Nope. Never heard of it."

The name meant nothing to Daniel, but it did to Jack. Shooting a suspicious look at his friend, Daniel raised one eyebrow. Jack shrugged back with an air of sheepishness that said he definitely knew what UNIT was and, for some reason, hadn't gotten around to mentioning it to Daniel.

"Pity," said the Doctor. "I'd always thought you two would work quite well together. Particularly since they've gotten into all sorts of troublesome spots as of late. Could do with a proper straightening out, though, I'm not suggesting you give it a try. Stargate Command and your superiors do have a few problems of your own on that front and it would be somewhat impolite to start casting stones, but nevertheless, considering your respective goals -- "

"Right," said Jack. "It'd be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"Of a sort," the Doctor nodded. He sat down. "Might want to look into that," he said, sounding cryptic. "You might find it helpful."

Daniel frowned. "Jack? A word?"

-

Martha looked at the Doctor. He looked insufferably pleased with himself. When the door shut behind Dr. Jackson and Colonel O'Neill, she poked him in the side. Hard. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Very deliberately, the Doctor removed his glasses, scrutinizing a smudge. He frowned at it, then rubbed it briskly with his tie. "I'm quite sure I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

With a snort of disbelief, Martha dropped down onto the cot. "Right, so you just _happened_ to bring up UNIT? A complete and total accident, right out of the blue, no planning at all? Just like our capture?" She laughed. "You've got a better answer tucked away in there, right, Doctor? After all, what would the Fourth Queen say if she heard you getting on like this?"

The Doctor sat down beside her. "Well, maybe, just maybe, it _might_ have been somewhat intentional, but only just. Really, hardly worth mentioning at all when you get right down to it."

Martha poked him again, harder, as he was absolutely asking for it. "_Doctor_."

He smiled, rubbing the spot she'd poked. "All right, all right, it might have been more than a little deliberate, but I promise, it was absolutely the best thing for all concerned."

The casual arrogance rankled and Martha sat up. "What makes you so sure?" As much as the Doctor fascinated her, as much as she was beginning to adore him, she didn't think she liked this side of him much at all. She hadn't seen much of it, but the more that she saw, the less she liked. The superiority seemed so _wrong_. "Shouldn't they have the right to decide that for themselves?"

Not that she liked the idea of the Americans appointing themselves Earth's ambassadors to the stars, but the point remained, the Doctor had no right to decide for them.

She frowned. "Why should you be the one to choose?"

"Well, it isn't as if I called up the Brigadier and _told_ him about Stargate Command," said the Doctor, a touch defensive. Which, to Martha, suggested that he had at least considered it and the tiny revelation was oddly comforting. "I merely put Daniel in a position to discover their ignorance violates any number of UNIT-related agreements."

"Just that," Martha said.

"Well, that and they'll be needing UNIT's help before long." The Doctor tipped his head. "_Well_, that and UNIT will likely be needing theirs as well."

"Something's coming."

The Doctor chuckled. "This is the SGC, Martha, there's always something waiting just round the corner. They seem to thrive on repeated flirtations with the apocalypse."

Martha raised her eyebrows. "They aren't the only ones. Forgetting how we met?"

He waved a hand. "Oh _that_, well, that was hardly an apocalypse. More of a minor disaster, really, and you came through it in fine style – so will they."

Thinking of the Doctor's friend and the despair lurking, Martha fervently hoped that was the case, for all their sakes, but she wasn't so sure.

-

"So," said Jack. "I guess this would be where I say don't ask and turn the conversation back on you?"

"I'd rather we just stick to UNIT, thanks," said Daniel, leading the way into his lab. He'd been hoping to avoid that conversation, gambling on Jack's 'feelings, bah' to get him out of it, so much for that plan. Wasn't that perfect? He didn't even know what he was supposed to be talking about. A man he'd know in his childhood had turned up, thirty years later, with a new face and a new body years younger than the one Daniel remembered. "The way the Doctor talked about them, if they ever find out about the SGC, we're in serious trouble?"

It wasn't the Doctor, but it _was_. It didn't make sense. It wasn't that he didn't think it was possible. Life in the SGC said it was. He'd seen stranger. He'd even swapped bodies with someone else. He knew it was possible, but somehow, he didn't think that was what it was and the Doctor hadn't seemed interested in elaboration. At least, not beyond the casual but cryptic comments he'd made.

One thing hadn't changed at least. Jack dug his hands into his pockets, looking at Daniel. "Since I'm under orders _not_ to talk about the UNIT thing, I'm gonna have to say thanks, but nope. I'd rather talk about the feelings."

Daniel pushed his glasses up. "Jack?"

"Daniel?"

"Do I really have to say it?"

"I'm full of shit?" Jack shrugged. "Probably not, it's a given anyway, but you do enjoy reminding me."

Sitting down, Daniel folded his arms. "UNIT?"

"International alien fighting organization," said Jack. "Been around since the sixties. Has no idea the Stargate program exists and, if they ever find out, we are _so_ gonna get yelled at." He grinned. "Not that the British should talk. They actually think nobody knows about Torchwood and those guys make the NID look like professionals."

Daniel frowned. "Torchwood." It'd sounded familiar when the Doctor mentioned it, but he hadn't given it much thought. "Wait, isn't that the -- "

"Guy in D.C. Thought you were the hottest thing since sliced bread?"

"As I recall," Daniel said, annoyed, "he thought the same thing about you."

"Yeah, but he spent all his time chasing your tail, so I get to gloat and you get to squirm."

Daniel shook his head. "Jack."

"Seriously, Daniel, that's pretty much it. UNIT would be pissed if they realized we were out there doing this without their input and since they're holding out on Torchwood, nobody in Washington's in any hurry to tell them about the Gate." Jack shrugged. "Now, about that Doctor of yours, is it him?"

Daniel spun on his stool, grabbing for an artifact at random. He turned it over in his hands, looking at it, but not really seeing it. "I don't know," he said, after some moments had passed. Didn't he? When he'd been standing in that room, looking the Doctor in the eye, it had all seemed so clear. If he were honest -- "It's – his eyes." he shook his head. "I don't know, Jack. Everything says that he is, but -- "

"Regeneration." Jack leaned against a counter, picking at the books sitting on it. "Ever hear him mention that before?"

"No."

"You sure?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. I met the Doctor once, Jack, and I told you what happened. We sat on the museum's steps, we ate candy, and we talked about the future. Not that I knew it was the future. I thought he was just a crazy old man who gave me his hat. He was nice." He plucked one book from Jack's hands, resisting the urge to whack him on the knuckles with it. "We didn't get into the complexities of his species. I didn't even know he _was_ an alien. It never came up."

"What did?" Jack moved closer, catching his eye. "You said you talked, right? Must've been about something."

"It was." Daniel sat down. "I don't remember a lot, but we talked." He looked away, staring into the air as he tried to remember. "It was strange. I remember thinking that he sounded like a crazy person. I just -- " He frowned, trying to pick coherence out of twenty year old memories. It wasn't easy. There was a lot about that day he didn't remember, more he didn't _want_ to remember. He'd spent decades burying it so deep it would never find its way back out.

Apparently, he'd been a lot more successful than he'd thought. Something filtered out, pushing its way through the detritus that clouded the memories and he looked at Jack with stunned surprise. "He talked about the Ancients."

Jack blinked. "Okay, now I'm impressed."

-

After their talk, the Doctor decided to take a nap. Watching him sleep, sprawled out on one of the regulation cots, Martha was incredulous. Locked up, away from the TARDIS, Daniel no apparent help at all, possibly hadn't even recognized him, and he was _sleeping_. She felt like hitting him with a pillow.

Getting up, Martha paced a circuit around the room, stopping before the door and its tiny window. Outside, she could see the corridor, it's brightly colored lines stretching down its length. Somewhere on the other end of those lines, the TARDIS waited. If they could just --

"Daniel should be here any second now."

The Doctor's voice, right in her ear, made her jump. She turned round to find him standing at her elbow, a confident smile on his face.

"_Doctor_!" she exclaimed, glaring. "Do you _mind_?"

"Not a bit," said the Doctor, continuing as if she'd not spoken at all. "It's been a few years, rough ones at that, and he's got all those bits and bobs jammed up in his head, makes it hard to remember." He looked almost amused. "Which, in fact, is likely the exact thought he's having at this particular moment. If he's dug into UNIT, then he's starting to put pieces together, and by now, he should be fixing up a nice little picture of it all."

"Remember what?" When the Doctor didn't answer her, Martha walked away from the door to sit down at the small table. "Doctor, why did you bring us here? It couldn't just be about mentioning some organization to him -- "

"Oh, no, it's not," the Doctor said, following her. "It was a convenient time to mention UNIT, but, no, the reason I came here was Daniel himself. When I say it's been a rough few years for him, Martha, I'm putting it in the mildest of terms. The Stargate has asked a lot of Daniel, taken even more, and somehow he's found it in himself to carry on. Unfortunately, there's only so far one's own will can go. Daniel's about reached the end of his and he's begun to crack under the strain. The whole lot of it's been on him for so long, but he had reasons to keep pushing on. He no longer has those, he's been cut adrift, and I'm afraid it's proving too much. Daniel's had quite the time of it and he's starting to feel the strain." He looked at the door, as if willing it to open and reveal a waiting Daniel. She'd never seen that look on the Doctor's face before and her heart ached for him. For them both, really. She couldn't imagine what Daniel could have gone through to have such an effect on him. In truth, she suspected she didn't want to try. "That strain's not going to get any easier in the near future. Knowing what I do about what's coming, it was time to come, I needed to see him and, I believe he needs to see me."

Before she could ask what he meant, the door opened and Daniel Jackson stepped in. He turned toward the Doctor. Martha and the Doctor both sat in silence, watching the emotions play out across his face.

"I asked about UNIT," said Daniel, finally. "General Hammond is furious with you."

"Well, he wouldn't be the first," the Doctor said, waving a dismissive hand.

"I thought as much." Daniel nodded. He breathed in, staring at his boots, "Doctor, I think we need to talk."

-

Instantly, the Doctor was on his feet, the grin coming back to his face in an instant. "Well, yes, obviously, talking was always on the agenda. Really, did you think I just dropped by to check in on the old girl?" He waved a hand, indicating – Daniel guessed – the Stargate. With some chagrin, he tipped his head. "_Well_, I imagine I should have done that anyway. With what you've been putting the Stargate through these last few years, someone should be keeping an eye on her."

"We have people to do that." Daniel said, deciding not to tell Sam about the doubtful expression the Doctor adopted in response. "They're very well trained."

"I'm sure that they are," the Doctor shrugged, apparently unconvinced. Oh, so never telling Sam about this. Daniel flicked a glance at the security cameras and hoped fervently that she wasn't watching this somewhere.

"So, tell me, exactly what would you like to talk about?" The Doctor's expression turned conspiratorial. "Might have a thing or two to say about UNIT if you'd like. I imagine dear Colonel O'Neill wasn't too forthcoming about it all. General Hammond even less."

He had no idea. Daniel could still feel the heat of the General's ire. The Pentagon was going to be beside themselves when they read the report. If, that was, the General actually composed and sent it. This probably wasn't something he wanted to tell anyone in D.C. about.

"He shared," said Daniel, amused. Leaning forward, he shoved his hands into his pockets. He realized with chagrin that he was hunching in on himself and made a conscious effort to straighten up. "Careful," he said, his smile wry. "You give me an opening like that, who knows where I'll go with it."

"Anywhere you wish, knowing you," the Doctor said, looking quite proud. "You've certainly lived up to every expectation possible, Daniel, and surprised more than a few." He folded his hands on the table, watching Daniel with bright eyes. "But before we delve into the secrets of space, time, and Hollywood, there's something else, isn't there?"

Daniel's smile widened, but didn't lose the chagrin. "There's always something else."

"Oh yes, of course there is," the Doctor nodded. "We're all quite incapable of getting to the point when the subject is something that truly matters to us. We prefer to dress it up as an afterthought, a 'something else' that we just happened to think of."

"Not this time," said Daniel. "I mean, yes, I'm _curious_, but that's not what I'm doing here." He sat down across from the Doctor. "What happened to you? If you're _him_, if you're the Doctor that I remember -- "

"I am," promised the Doctor. "Of that you can rest assured, Daniel, I am he."

"Well, if you are, then -- " Daniel gestured. "_How_? You mentioned something called regeneration."

"That I did," said the Doctor, nodding. "Which is the mechanism by which this occurred." He smiled. "As incomprehensible as it might sound, it is a method of survival which our species developed. No one quite knows exactly how it came about. Been around so long that bit of knowledge's been tucked away and lost to time." Which might, or might not, have been true. Daniel had a feeling it wasn't the whole story, but he also had a feeling the whole story wasn't something the Doctor had much experience with. "Time Lords are capable of channelling a great deal of energy toward a transformation that allows us to begin anew. We 'regenerate' into new bodies."

The Doctor was right. The whole thing was incomprehensible. Drumming his fingers against the table, Daniel mulled it over. "Some sort of evolutionary reset button. Just hit it and start over."

"Good deal more complicated than that," the Doctor said, "but that would be the gist of it, yes."

"And you've regenerated since the last time I saw you."

"More than once," said the Doctor. "I'm sure this will come as a shock, but I have a tendency to get myself into trouble."

"I'm shocked," said Daniel. "Absolutely floored." He let himself grin briefly before sighing. "Did you have any idea, that day, what you did for me?"

The Doctor smiled sadly. "Thought that I did, but really, I don't think I had a clue. Had a rough time of it myself over the past few..." he paused, "...well, since we last spoke." He fell silent, looking at his hands. "Listen, when Martha and I were taken into custody by your lovely airmen, they took something from me. Small device, about so long," he held up his hands to demonstrate. "Don't suppose you could get it back for me?"

"Not a chance," said Daniel. "Sam ran a few tests and she's pretty sure you could take the place apart with it."

"Oh, it's not a weapon," said the Doctor. "Just a screwdriver."

"A screwdriver?" Daniel echoed with some skepticism. "Really."

"Absolutely," said the Doctor. "Sonic, of course, but when one is dealing with screwdrivers, you can't get anything better than sonic."

"A _sonic_ screwdriver."

"Yes, Daniel, a sonic screwdriver," said the Doctor, eyes full of amusement. "You've no problems believing in a ship that looks like a police box, but a sonic screwdriver, now that you can't believe?"

Daniel grinned, flushing. "Well, the TARDIS makes sense. At least, the idea of it does." Besides, Sam had been running tests on that too and the energy that it was pumping out definitely meant it was more than just a police box. "A sonic screwdriver? Why?"

The Doctor looked chagrined and Daniel had the feeling this wasn't a new conversation. "It seemed like a brilliant idea at the time and, I'll have you know, it turned out to be an equally brilliant execution."

"And if you had it," Daniel said, "you'd be gone by now."

"No, Daniel," the Doctor smiled, "I wouldn't be."

"Why?"

"Quite simple, really," said the Doctor. "You needed me." He looked around them. "This place is quite a wonder, isn't it? All the universe right there at your fingertips, just walk out and grab it, but it's not that simple. The universe grabs back and grabs hard." He leaned forward. "Sometimes, it feels like it's going to rip you apart, doesn't it?"

Daniel dropped his gaze, staring at the floor. Summoning the energy to say, "Sometimes," felt like it required a herculean effort and, maybe, it did. He let his eyes follow a crack in the floor, tracing it with more interest than he felt.

"I'm sorry about her."

The Doctor's words, quiet and sympathetic, brought Daniel's eyes back up with alarming speed. "What did you just say?"

"Sha're," the Doctor said. "I'm so very sorry, Daniel. I know losing her that way, it must have been -- " his smile was somber. "I imagine, that in all the languages you know, there aren't words to describe it."

"Not even close," Daniel whispered. "Not even close." He swallowed hard, trying to breathe around the lump in his throat. "I -- " he shook his head. He couldn't. He couldn't say it. Couldn't mention her name. "Years. I spent, _years_ chasing after her, trying to save her, just -- " he got up from the table, turning away from the Doctor's empathetic gaze. It hurt too much to look at him, to know that the Doctor understood. He just _couldn't_. "I don't know why I'm doing this anymore." And, to be honest with himself, he hadn't for a very long time. SG1 had become, like so many other things, a habit which he had no reason to break.

The days when it had been his obsession were long since past.

In the beginning of it all, the search for Sha're had fueled him, driven him forward with an intensity he knew couldn't be sustained. It had carried him farther than he ever would have thought possible.

Now it had begun to run out. "I don't have anything left, Doctor."

The Doctor stood, walking round the table to stand before him. "No, Daniel, not now, you don't." He looked Daniel in the eye, his gaze holding a myriad of pain, loss, and hope. "I can't even promise you'll ever get it back. No one can give you faith that things will be better, it's something that you must develop on your own, but I can tell you that your story doesn't end here. There's so much left to do, Daniel, so much left to see. What I told you all those years ago still holds true. What's out there, beyond that gate, well, you can't even begin to imagine just how far it goes. How far it will take you."

"No?" Daniel risked looking over, but couldn't quite stop the bitter edge on his words. "Did you hop in the TARDIS and skip ahead and see the end for yourself?"

The Doctor's smile was brilliant. "No," he said, "but I've seen enough to know that what you have seen? Isn't even the barest tip of the beginning."

Daniel didn't care if the others could see this. He didn't care if the surveillance was still running. By now, he thought, Jack would have told them to shut it down, but he didn't care either way. Bringing his hands up to rest on the Doctor's arms, he said, "I wish I could believe you."

The Doctor sighed, but, to his credit, his smile barely wavered, "You will. In time, you will."

-

Left to her own devices in their 'room', Martha decided to follow the Doctor's example. She lay down on one of the cots and tried to sleep. The adrenaline had begun to fade, the immediate danger had passed, and her eyes were grainy with the onset of exhaustion.

Grabbing the Doctor's coat, she settled down and turned toward the wall. Despite the weariness that laced through every thought, sleep remained stubbornly elusive.

Instead, she lay there and listened to the passing personnel. In the silence of the holding room, their footsteps sounded like thunder, their voices echoing in the hallway. After a while, she started counting them. American soldiers made an odd substitute for sheep, but they did work.

Martha had just begun to drift off, sleep pulling her down into a welcome escape, when the door unlocking jolted her awake.

So much for that plan.

She fumbled upright, looking over her shoulder, expecting the Doctor's return. She found Colonel O'Neill standing there instead. He stopped inside the door, hesitating at the sight of her, and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, didn't mean to, uh, yeah."

Smiling, she rolled over and sat up. "S'fine, really. Not much else to do."

"Yeah," O'Neill nodded, glancing up at the ceiling. "I keep telling them we need cable in here. Maybe some playing cards, but do they listen to me? Nah." He stepped farther into the room. "So, the Doctor not back yet?"

Martha shook her head. "Dr. Jackson wanted to talk."

"Yeah, Daniel's kind of fond of that," he said. "Seems to think it accomplishes stuff."

She grinned. "Certainly got you lot running for the hills."

"Nah, not the hills," O'Neill shrugged. "Backyard maybe."

Pulling up her legs, Martha rested her arms on her knees and watched him, "So, UNIT?"

He smirked. "Well, maybe _one_ hill, but," he shrugged again, "Doc's not wrong. They should know about this place. Hell, the way they keep running into aliens, it's only a matter of time before one of 'em brings it up anyway."

"And then it hits the fan?" asked Martha.

"Probably," the Colonel said. "Nothing new about that. It hits the fan pretty regular around here. Listen, since the Doc and Daniel are off communing, how about I give you the twenty cent tour? Maybe a cup of coffee or something."

Martha smiled. _Caffeine_. She was on her feet before she hesitated. "Isn't this place just a little classified?"

"Like if 'I show you, I have to kill you' classified?" he asked, smiling. "Technically, it is, but I'm pretty sure you're not going to tell anybody. Besides, if what we hear about the Doctor is true, you probably know more about what we do than we do."

"No," said Martha, "but I can think of a few ways to find out."

Gesturing her through the door, O'Neill smiled, "That wasn't an invitation, Ms. Jones."

"No?" she asked, walking past him. "Sounded like one to me."

-

"You know, you never told me where you were from." Painfully aware of the following SFs, Daniel focused on watching the Doctor as they talked. Even walking down a corridor, he took in everything in sight with gusto, stopping to examine random points of interest. A kid in a candy store. "Your homeworld, I mean."

The Doctor's exuberance dimmed. "No, I didn't, did I?"

Daniel hesitated, sensing he'd stumbled onto a sensitive topic. "I got the impression, from what you said, that you weren't exactly on the best terms with them."

"Which is putting it mildly," said the Doctor. He looked over, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "At the time, my fellow Time Lords thought quite little of me, and I thought even less of them."

"A real lovefest all around," said Daniel. He walked into his lab, letting the Doctor go ahead of him. The SFs, however, he stopped at the door. "We'll be fine in here." When they looked like they might argue, Daniel put on his most disarming smile. "We'll leave the door open, I promise."

"And talk very loudly," added the Doctor, all innocence.

Daniel looked back. "_Doctor_."

The Doctor's expression matched his tone, "Well, we wouldn't want them to miss anything, now would we?"

Shrugging, Daniel turned toward him. "I'm sorry," he said of the guards. "It's not that I don't trust you, I do -- "

" -- but your Pentagon does not," the Doctor finished. "President's been talking to the Prime Minister, no doubt. I'm afraid 10 Downing's not much of a fan at present. Or, rather, they won't be in short order. Though I imagine they don't think much of me, period. I tend to meddle."

As shocking as that was, really, so very shocking, Daniel poured himself a cup coffee and asked, "And UNIT? Do you meddle with them?"

"On occasion. Was actually a member once," said the Doctor. "Time Lords tossed me out. UNIT was nice enough to offer me a place for a while. Quite good of them, but of course, these days it's not the same. They've had a few decades on their own to decide I'm a dinosaur." He smiled. "They hate being reminded to the contrary."

"Most people do," said Daniel. He put his coffee down and reached for a file on his desk. The carbon dating on the Gallifreyan etchings was back. Interested, he opened the folder and looked for the results.

When he found them, he blinked and frowned, "What the _hell_?"

Dropping the report on the table, he went for the phone. Behind him, the Doctor picked up the report. "Something wrong, Daniel?"

"Yeah," said Daniel, grabbing the phone. "The carbon dating's back on samples from my latest dig. The numbers make absolutely no sense." Tucking the phone against his shoulder, he dialled the lab. Somebody was asleep at the wheel. "They must have botched the test."

He listened to the rings going through, waiting for the technician to pick up. He never did.

The Doctor's hand landed on the phone, disconnecting the call. "They didn't," he said, as he took the receiver away from him.

Confused, but curious, Daniel let him. "And you know this because -- "

"Gallifrey, Daniel," said the Doctor. "I'm from Gallifrey." He brandished the file in front of him, the look in his eyes almost frantic. "Now, please, it's absolutely crucial that you tell me where you found these etchings."

-

Martha reached out, laying a hand on the Stargate. "What's it feel like?" she asked, trying to picture herself traveling through it, emerging on another world, and could almost feel the device come to life beneath her hand. "It must be absolutely _incredible_."

"Oh, it's something all right," said Jack, just a touch dry. Following her up the ramp, he leaned against the gate's arch. "It takes some getting used to, but once you do, you're fine."

She smiled. "But before that?"

His eyes warmed. "Friend of mine said it was like walking through a snowstorm – naked. He's not really wrong. You come out the other side freezing cold and sick as hell. Damn near lost my lunch every time we went through that first month." Waving a hand at the TARDIS, he asked, "What about that thing? How's she handle on the corners?"

Martha looked back. A lone scientist was circling the TARDIS, staring at a device in her hand. Whatever it was telling her, she was fascinated, the look on her face was one of complete enthrallment. She thought about mentioning the Doctor wasn't fond of people monkeying about with the TARDIS, but decided against it. They probably couldn't tell anything from the outside anyway and, besides, she understood. "Like riding a hurricane," she said, grinning. "Haven't figured out yet if that's her or just the Doctor's driving."

Jack winced. "That bad, huh?"

Recalling some of the Doctor's _livelier_ landings, Martha nodded emphatically. "The poor TARDIS, it's a wonder she holds up as well as she does. Nearly lost _my_ lunch at times, don't know how the Doctor stays standing."

"Two stomachs?" Jack offered. "Always a good idea to have a back up."

She looked at him. "Just how much did UNIT tell you?"

He grinned. "Seriously?"

"Well, no," Martha shook her head, "At least, not that he's _said_, but, well," she laughed, "it's the Doctor. Just when you think you've got a handle on him, he -- "

"Two stomachs?"

"Two hearts," said Martha.

"Really?" Jack asked, saying, "_Sweet_," when Martha nodded. "All the beer and pizza you can eat." Almost as quickly as he said it, he frowned, "Wait, no, two heart attacks. Man, that would _suck_."

She nodded. "True."

"So, moving on from the suck, how'd you end up in that thing anyway?" Jack asked. "You're not a Time Lady or anything, right?"

Martha laughed. "No. I just met him one day. Walked up to me, took off his tie, and then walked off. Ran into him again in hospital. Hadn't met me yet."

Jack's brow furrowed. "Huh?"

"Time travel," Martha explained. "When he turned up at the hospital, he hadn't met me yet. When he told me about time travel, I didn't believe him. The tie was proof."

"Weird ass proof," Jack commented. "But then again, met the guy, it's right up his alley. So what was he doing in the hospital anyway?"

"Meddling," Martha said. "It's what he does. Runs about the galaxy, stumbling into trouble, and sometimes, trouble stumbles into him. This time there were aliens. One was a vampire of sorts, the others were soldiers sent to find her." She left out the part about transporting the hospital to the moon. If the Colonel didn't know that part, she wasn't about to try and explain it. "He saved everyone." Blood-sucking alien vampire not included, but she wasn't regretting that one.

"And took you along to see the universe?"

"Wasn't that simple," said Martha, "but yeah."

Jack scratched the back of his neck. "Off to parts unknown?"

"And times slightly known," Martha said, smiling. "Saw Shakespeare. In person." Her smile widened. "He wrote me a sonnet."

"Wrote one of those once," said Jack, nodding. "About a guy from Nantucket." He pushed away from the Stargate. "Nobody liked it much."

"Hacks," Martha said. "The lot of them."

"That's what I said, no appreciation for great art," said Jack. "So, Shakespeare?"

"Shakespeare," Martha nodded. "Also Daleks, angel statutes that steal your life, scientists who turn themselves into scorpions, and the Judoon."

"The who?"

Martha smiled. "You don't want to know."

"Sure I do," said Jack. "We might run into them out there sometime. I should probably know if there are going to be hard feelings. Are there going to be hard feelings?"

It took Martha almost a minute to realize he wasn't joking. That beneath the light-hearted tone there was steel waiting. She stopped, looking down the ramp at him. He looked back, waiting for her answer. She lifted her chin. "Shouldn't I be asking you the same question?"

She scored points on that one. Martha watched him think it over and grimace.

"Right," she said, walking past him, "Less than that." She stopped before the TARDIS, looking up at it. "Any fight the Doctor starts, the Doctor finishes, but usually someone else throws the first punch."

"And he finishes those too?"

"I like being thorough," the Doctor said, walking back into the room, Daniel and his guards in hot pursuit. "Take after my mother that way. Lovely woman. Taught me a lot."

"Wash behind your ears, look twice before crossing the timeline?" asked Jack.

"And mind the alien invasions. They can make a horrendous mess," said the Doctor. "Of course, fighting's a nasty business. Best to avoid it when you can." He stopped beside Martha. "Having a nice interrogation?"

"Hey, I was being nice," said Jack, holding up his hands.

"He didn't even bring out the thumbscrews," Martha offered.

"See?" the Doctor said, nodding. "Interrogation is a lost art. Nobody uses thumbscrews anymore."

"So I keep telling the General," sighed Jack, "but the man never listens. It's a shame."

The Doctor nodded, smiling as he rested a hand on her shoulder. "All's going well then, I take it?" He glanced over at the technician examining the TARDIS. "Think we should show her the inside?"

"If you don't mind," said Jack. "We've been wanting to take a little peek." He gestured at the TARDIS. "Kind of a tight fit to be knocking around in, doncha think?"

"Oh, I don't know about that, Colonel," said the Doctor with an arch grin. "The TARDIS can be unpredictable."

"Can't imagine where she gets _that_ from," Martha nudged him, but the Doctor didn't answer. She watched him step closer to his TARDIS, resting a hand on the side. He stood there, seeming to forget about them for a moment as he stared at it.

She looked at Daniel, curious. He met her eyes, briefly, but then looked away. Worried, Martha took a step closer to the Doctor. She tipped her head, getting a better look at his face. He looked as old as he purported himself to be. Old and tired.

"Doctor?" Worried, she stepped closer, putting a hand on his arm. He was tense beneath her touch. Her stomach tied itself in knots as she asked, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Daniel?" Behind her, Jack addressed Daniel. "Something happen that you wanna share with the class?"

Martha looked past the Doctor, watching as Daniel turned to face his friend. He looked just as somber and weary as the Doctor did. Possibly more. "Yes," he said, unearthly calm. "We got the carbon dating back on the etchings. There was something _off_ about it and the Doctor -- " Daniel hesitated. "The Doctor is from Gallifrey."

Jack's brow furrowed. "Gallifrey as in the carvings on P4Z-920? Time travelling, anti-social muckity mucks?"

"Not exactly," said Daniel. "They're not anti-social, Jack, not anymore." He hesitated, pushing his glasses back into place. "The Doctor is, well, the only one left."

"What?"

"There was a war," Martha said, speaking before the Doctor could. She didn't know much. Only caught a bit here and there along their trip, but she knew enough. "A terrible war and the Doctor is the only one who survived."

"Not anymore," said Daniel. "When I said the readings were off, I meant it. The Doctor thinks that -- "

"There was a colony," the Doctor interrupted, his voice distant. "The others were desperate. The war was going badly. They sent a group of our brightest from Gallifrey with highly secret orders. I've no idea what they were working on, what the experiment was intended to do, but the scientists did something -- " he shook his head. "I don't know what." He turned his head, meeting Martha's eyes with a wry smile. "They never trusted me much, had good reason not to as it turns out."

She bit her lip. "Doctor -- "

He smiled, patting her hand. "It's all right, Martha. It's just a surprise to come across the colony now."

"S'more than that, though, isn't it?" she asked. "There's something else going on here, I can see it."

He nodded, accepting the comment. "There is much, much more to it, Martha." He looked back at the waiting men. "I think they're alive."

Jack's brow furrowed. "This is going to be one of those 'break my brain' conversations, isn't it?"

"Yep," Daniel nodded. "Pretty much. We should probably get Sam for this one. She's going to want to hear it. The big thing is that they're there, just out of step with our time."

"How would that work?" asked Martha.

"The entire colony was like its own TARDIS. Massive in scale, but then -- "

"Bigger on the inside." Martha and Daniel said with him.

"Yes, precisely," said the Doctor. "With that technology, their space is almost limitless."

"Well, how many people are we looking at here?" asked Jack.

"We don't know," said Daniel. "We just know they're in there."

"And how to get them out?" The way he asked the question, Martha suspected he was already working on some sort of rescue plan, plotting out an evacuation in his head. "Just so we know what we're going to need."

"Well, now, that might be a problem," said the Doctor. "I haven't a clue how to get them out. Without knowing what they were mucking about with before they were knocked out of time, I can't even begin to attempt to fix it. I'd likely end up making matters worse."

Martha watched his face and the guilt of his expression.

He was lying.

Stepping closer to the Doctor, she tucked an arm through his, "Never did show him inside the TARDIS?"

The Doctor looked up, momentarily confused, but she tipped her head in Daniel's direction and he smiled. "No, never got the chance. Too many looky-loos running about the place."

Martha produced her key. "Better late than never?"

-

"Holy shi--"

Daniel coughed, cutting Jack off. "Well, you said it was bigger on the inside." Resting a hand on the railing, he circled the main console. It didn't look like any console he'd ever seen, and he wasn't an expert, but he guessed that was what it was. "Just how big _is_ it?"

"Never have found the end," the Doctor said, proud. "Think she likes to keep me guessing."

"She?" asked Jack.

"The TARDIS," said Martha. "She's alive in a way."

That didn't surprise Daniel. In fact, it seemed very obvious in its way. Of _course_ the Doctor would have a living ship. What else would fit? Still, curiosity to see her pulled him forward and he took a step toward the corridor. Bigger on the inside didn't quite cover it. Though the corridor didn't show it, he had the sense it went quite a ways. "What's down here?"

The Doctor followed, leaving Jack with Martha, "Oh, a bit of everything and some of nothing at all."

"It's amazing," said Daniel. "Would the colony be like this?" He looked back, watching the Doctor's good humor evaporate. Stopping, he smiled. "You were lying out there when you said you couldn't get them out, weren't you?"

"No," said the Doctor. He paced a few steps away. "It's not as easy as all that, Daniel."

"Oh, I don't know about that," said Daniel. "It seems that easy to me. Either you know how to free the colony or you don't." He softened his voice, reaching out toward the Doctor. "I think you won't, I just don't know why."

"I -- " the Doctor stopped and sighed. "I _can't_, Daniel. They have no idea what happened, the Daleks, Gallifrey, they don't know how it all _ended_, and what I -- " he turned back. "What I did."

Daniel felt cold fingers creep along his spine, the utter certainty that something had gone terribly terribly wrong. He wanted to tell the Doctor to stop, to cover his ears and refuse to hear it, to do anything but let the Doctor tell him the truth.

He straightened, keeping the supportive expression on his face through sheer force of will. "What happened, Doctor? What did you do?"

The Doctor's face hardened into a mask, but his voice betrayed his agony as he said, "I killed them. _All of them_. Gallifrey, the Daleks, all of them." He snorted. "Or at least I thought I did. The Daleks, of course, they survived, but the others, the Time Lords, they _died_."

"But not you."

"No," the Doctor said, on an almost hysterical laugh. "Not me, never me, I was supposed to, I thought -- "

"You regenerated instead," finished Daniel.

"I regenerated instead," agreed the Doctor. He slumped against the wall of the TARDIS. "She protected me. Saved me. I was alone in the universe. The last of my people" He laughed again, bitter and angry. "Fitting when you consider my crime, isn't it?"

Daniel didn't know. He didn't know what to say to the Doctor's confession. Comforting a friend who'd confessed to the genocide of his own kind. There were no words to explain it. He swallowed. "And now you're not. Now there's a ship full of people trapped outside of time. People you would have to face."

The Doctor nodded miserably. "And I can't, Daniel. I can't. I know it makes me the most tremendous kind of a coward, but I can't." He shook his head. "They'll figure their own way out in time, and maybe, perhaps then I'll tell them, but -- "

"But in the meantime," Daniel nodded.

"Not going to try and convince me otherwise?" asked the Doctor. "No grand speeches about absolving myself by saving them?"

"Nope," Daniel joined him by the wall, trying to keep his posture relaxed. The tension underscoring the conversation made it difficult, but it was important, he thought, he believed. The Doctor didn't need condemnation. Not now. He doubted the Doctor could take more than he had already heaped upon himself. "Not a one. We're in uncharted territory here, Doctor, and no one has the right to tell you how to do this. Do I want you to try? Yes. I think they deserve a chance, but I don't have the right to tell you otherwise. I don't know of anyone who does."

"Uncharted territory," repeated the Doctor, morose. It sounded _wrong_ to hear it from him. The depth of the pain incongruous to the childhood memories Daniel now cherished.

He closed his eyes, able to feel the weight of the Doctor's hat resting on his brow and the taste of the jelly babies on his tongue. He opened his eyes to say, "Doctor?"

"Yes, Daniel?"

"The day you are ready?" Daniel smiled. "I'll be there."

-

The Ascended knew of the Doctor. The beginnings of the association between the Alterans and the Gallifreyans went back so far even they could not recall its beginning. Some of them had even joined their allies in Ascension. Daniel didn't talk to them, but he knew they were there. The Doctor evoked mixed feelings in everyone, it seemed, and the former Time Lords had no wish to revisit those feelings.

Daniel couldn't blame them. He wasn't so sure about the Doctor himself. Ascension brought knowledge, but understanding he was having to work on himself.

It wasn't going all that well. Slipping into the TARDIS, he settled into a chair. It wasn't in flight, which was just as well. The chaos generated by a TARDIS travelling in time could be stomach churning, even when you didn't have a stomach.

"Hello, Daniel," said the Doctor. He was head and shoulders inside a console from which a loud banging noise could be heard. "Pleasant trip?"

The man could at least _try_ to look surprised. "You knew, didn't you?"

"That you'd be dropping by?" asked the Doctor, pulling his head out of the console. The wrench in his hand was massive and Daniel winced in sympathy. No wonder the TARDIS was grouchy. "Naturally. Ascended and all, you can pretty much pop by for a quick chat whenever you feel like it." He grinned cheerfully. "I was hoping you might, actually. Give us a chance to catch up without armed guards and Jack O'Neill staring me down."

Dropping the wrench with a clatter, the Doctor wiped his hands. "You know, I think she does this on purpose. Just stops working one day and watches me run all about the place making a fuss."

Daniel nodded. "Yes."

Looking horrified, disgusted, and possibly a little envious all at once, the Doctor huffed at him. "And I suppose you two are having a grand chat then?"

With another nod, Daniel's smirk widened. "Yes."

The Doctor pouted. Looking, for a moment, like the Doctor that Daniel remembered. "I suppose pointing out it's not _fair_ would have absolutely no effect whatsoever?"

"Absolutely none." Daniel agreed.

The Doctor humphed. "All right then." He paced a step away, arms still folded tight against his chest. "Yes, I knew. Your present is my past, Daniel. In fact, about now I'm running about with an entirely different face."

"Several different faces." Daniel corrected. "Confusing, isn't it?"

"You adjust," said the Doctor. "Can make having a conversation absolutely murder however."

"No kidding." Daniel tipped his head, smiling. "There's something I have to tell you."

The Doctor looked unimpressed. "I imagine, Daniel, there's quite a lot that you have to tell me. Ascension, I'm told, does come with certain perks."

Daniel scowled. "Not as many as you might think." Before the Doctor could pounce on that, he got up, sliding a hand along the railing. "At any rate, what I never told you had to do with you." He stopped, looking sideways at the Doctor. "Do you remember when you told me about UNIT? The first time?"

"Of course," said the Doctor. "When we were waiting for the social worker. Three jelly babies left in the bag and you nicked two."

"There were four and I stole three." Daniel shrugged. "Moving on. I repressed a lot about that day, UNIT, Gallifrey, all of it, included. When you mentioned it last year, I didn't recognize the name. It sounded familiar, but I didn't make the connection."

The Doctor looked interested. "Right. And what of it?"

"Well, UNIT's liaison to the SGC arrived today," said Daniel, a grin tugging at his lips. "How much did you have to do with _that_ assignment?"

The Doctor smiled. "Not a thing. It was all Martha's doing. She worked with Colonel Lethbridge-Stewart on a rather messy matter shortly after joining UNIT." He beamed proudly. "The Brigadier's granddaughter is quite the soldier and a lovely young woman."

"She's driving Jack _insane_."

"From what I remember, that's going to be a very short trip," said the Doctor archly. He sat down across from Daniel. "So, didn't just drop by for a quick chat about the family, did you?" He looked at him, serious in an instant, "Have you -- "

"Been to check on the colony? Yes, I have. Well, as close as I can get, anyway. They have friends among the Ascended, it seems." Friends or jailers, Daniel didn't care to hazard a guess as to which one. Sometimes, with the Ascended, it seemed like the two were interchangeable. "From what I could tell, they're fine. No closer to freedom, but I'm not sure they're interested in it."

"Likely not," the Doctor said. "They've no way of knowing what's happened to Gallifrey." His gaze met Daniel's, the guilt still very much present. "In all likelihood, they cut themselves off from the flow of normal time to buy themselves some of it."

"Weapons of mass destruction take time." Daniel didn't want to think about what the Time Lords might dream up in their self-imposed exile. He'd seen enough of their peacetime ingenuity to realize that, bent to destruction, their intellect could be the stuff of nightmares. If he dreamed, that was.

"So they say," said the Doctor, noncommittal.

The conversation died there. Silence ruled between them. They hadn't discussed his confession since that day in the TARDIS. Daniel doubted they would ever speak of it again. Even now, with the wealth of Ascension's knowledge at his disposal, he still had no idea what to say. He sighed with the realization.

"There isn't anything that can be said."

The Doctor's words, calmly spoken, surprised him. Daniel focused on him again. "Pardon?"

"You're trying to think of what to say," the Doctor murmured. "There isn't anything. I killed them. To save everyone else, I killed my own, and – in the end – it was pointless. The Daleks survived anyway. I did the unspeakable and still failed. All that can be done now is to live with it." He smiled. "There is nothing one can say to change that, Daniel. There are no magic words or assurances. It just is."

"I'm sorry," said Daniel. "I really am."

"As am I," the Doctor agreed. "I'm sorry about a great many things."

"I don't regret what happened," said Daniel, sensing the shift in focus. "I did what I needed to do."

"Yes, you do," the Doctor said. "Well, you don't regret what you did; you regret what you've become."

Daniel made a face. "Tell me again there's so much more left to see."

"There is," said the Doctor, "but I won't tell you what." His eyes glimmered with mischief, "Spoil the fun."


End file.
